Joel Refuses to Register for the Spartan Race or Send Us an Exercise Program (AKA: Joel Wants Us to Fail)

It's become clear that you're all a bunch of jack wagons. Each week, we give you a poll and each week you answer it like you have an IQ of less than 4. For some reason, we gave two sh*ts about your feelings, so we asked how you felt about our stadium tour plans changing. You turned around and spit our kindness in our faces. This is the last time we care about you. Consider this our giant middle finger extended in your direction. Long story short, 2 of you d*ckheads chose "burp." You literally suck. No more joke options for you. You can't be trusted. Don't you realize that these joke options are us testing your intelligence? You've failed every single time. That's impressive. No one fails anything 100%, yet you have. We're not going to even bother discussing the rest of the poll choices. It's just going to make us more mad. We're considering taking away your power to vote.

In just a few short weeks, we'll be participating in the Cupid's Undie Run for the Children's Tumor Foundation. Any of you local TBB fans (and you're probably just an urban legend because it seems that only California residents like us) that are on the quest for epic stupidity should consider joining us before the run is sold out. You're looking at two members of the team "Can You See My Knickers?" The theme of the day is Wonder Woman. Buy these socks and wear them. If you're a bro who is not secure in his manhood, we will accept Superman since he matches the color scheme. In that case, buy these socks. The afterparty is at the Brass Monkey. Let's all go party in our undies together, shall we? It's for the children. To prepare for running in public while wearing minimal clothing, we've stopped going to the local bar for beer and wings every Monday night. We haven't exactly stopped going to Chipotle or Taco Bell, but we figured removing the "every Monday night" factor was a step in the right direction. Besides...there's no more Monday Night Football, so who gives a sh*t besides the Hot Wing Arbitrator?

In keeping with the bizarre "wellness" theme, we've also managed to be convinced by Serena's cousin, Joel (who is in infinitely better shape than the two of us combined), to register for the Spartan Race at Citi Field on April 13th. We've created an amazing team called The Fear Boners and Joel has yet to sign up. We're starting to suspect that he's bamboozled us. If you're interested in watching our final moments, you should join our team and laugh at us as we die a slow, painful, and miserable death in a mud pie like the animals stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits. Choose the Morning Wave (9-12:00 pm). Besides having the opportunity to watch our out-of-shape failure, you'll also get to run an obstacle course built at Citi Field! Pretty cool, no? The event is trending to be sold out way before the actual event date, so be sure to join sooner rather than later. Don't you want to be a part of the magic that is The Fear Boners? We think you do.

As you can see, neither one of us are really built for speed. Comfort, yes. But speed? No way. Joel has promised to email Serena the workout program that he created for his wife so that she can be ready to run the race with, as she says, "your [Serena's and Joel's] freakishly strong and athletic family." Serena would then forward the aforementioned program to Lisa. Has this happened? No. Joel has not only failed to register for this race, but he's also failed to share his secret obstacle course training program with us because he wants us to die...alone and muddied. Our trainer friend, Greg, who we have affectionately dubbed "Call Me Maybe" has promised to train with us on the weekends. This will most likely prove to be one of his life's biggest mistakes because we're pretty annoying. We trust him because we climbed a mountain with him, did yoga on top of that mountain with him, and when a giant snake crossed our path, he allowed Serena to physically push him in front of the snake's path in order to protect ourselves (it's every man for himself, we always say). He didn't even get mad at us for being selfish like that.

Reality: what's probably going to happen is that we'll meet Call Me Maybe a few times, goof off, piss him off to the point where he'll never want to see us again, let alone train us, and then we won't do anything remotely similar to preparing. We'll prepare like we've prepared for every race we've ever run (drink beer, eat wings and Taco Bell, and talk about how "tommorow will be the day that we'll start training"). Joel won't send us an exercise program. In fact, he won't get around to registering until the event is sold out, which means we'll be stuck running alone, which also means that we'll have no one to perform CPR when neither of us can climb our fat a$$es over the wall that will most definitely be there. Plus, the race requires that teams have a minimum of 4 people to qualify as a team, which means The Fear Boners will no longer be recognized, which is basically a human travesty. Thanks to Joel and his desire for us to experience failure, we won't finish the race and as a result, we will not get another medal. Another travesty. Afterwards, we will legally change our middle names to Failure Pile and become banned from all future Spartan Races for as long as we live.

Don't miss the opportunity to witness this in person. Join The Fear Boners today!

Baseball Notes:
TOWSNBN, Mark Teixeira, Robinson Cano, and Francisco Cervelli are all New York players who've been named to World Baseball Classic rosters. Who cares? We think we'll go wet ourselves now with excitement (*said sarcastically*). In other Yankees news, Alex Rodriguez's surgery on his left hip has gone swimmingly. The Rick DiPietro of baseball will be out of action until mid-season. And speaking of TOWSNBN, he and Molly Beers are officially engaged. If that wasn't a giant f*ck you to Lisa, we don't know what it is. There is no joy in New York-ville.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Last week, the big news was that Ryan Braun was cleared of all performance-enhancing drug charges. We asked if you were happy about it. Surprisingly, 5 of you voted, “No. He did it! I know he did! And I’m not gonna rest until I get the evidence I need to prove it!” Only 2 of you chose, “Yes, I love him and his Italian restaurant with the creepy waiters.” We thought he had more fans than this. We’re truly shocked that more of you weren’t supportive of him. 
 

Among the many other things that AJ Burnett does not do well, the man apparently can’t sacrifice bunt to save his eye. AJ took a ball to the eye off his bat during bunting practice. He underwent surgery to repair the fracture and will miss 2-3 months, forcing the Pirates to change their Opening Day starter. While Lisa finds this story amusing (as AJ will most likely have to wear an eye patch while playing for the Pirates), Serena is absolutely flabbergasted. Having played softball for most of her life, she happens to be a pretty good bunter. It’s not all that difficult. It’s probably the easiest thing she learned while playing the game right after learning how to slide into a base. Even watching the replay of this accident confuses Serena (Lisa laughs at it). How BAD do you have to be at squaring off to the pitcher in order for this to happen? The bat’s supposed to be nowhere near your face. It’s still supposed to be able to cover the plane of the plate. We’ve literally watched the video 6 times. Each time, our conversation goes something like this:

*Play Video*
Lisa: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Serena: I just don’t get it!!!! What the f*ck is he doing?
Lisa: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Serena: It just doesn’t make any sense!
Lisa: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Serena: Want to watch it again?
Lisa: YES!

It’s at this time that we feel it necessary to break up with AJ once and for all. He’s no longer with the Yankees and now he no longer has an eye. After breaking up with him on our blog during the 2010 season, we dallied off and on with our AJ (we do share a house pet after all). For those of you who have no idea what we’re talking about, please read this. But now there’s nothing keeping us tied to him, we’ve decided that we need to cut ties and be firm about it. No more back and forth crap. It’s too much. Our hearts can’t take it anymore. It brings us great pain to do this, but it needs to be done.

Dear AJ,

By the time you read this, you will already have gotten your eye patch. Hopefully, reading this letter will not strain your remaining good eye. We all know that this relationship hasn’t been easy these last two seasons. Your inconsistent efforts on and off the field (and don’t make us spell this one out. You know what we’re referring to here) has taken its toll. Adding these issues to the fact this has now become a long distance relationship pretty much spells doom. Plus, you’re not even with a good team. How do you expect us to pretend to be happy for you when you’re playing for the Pirates? At this point, you should just head down to the minors. We’d have a little bit more respect for you. Perhaps you should consider retiring.

This brings us to the recent incident of your eye. We get that you play for the Pirates and that it’s amusing that you’re forced to wear an eye patch now, but c’mon. We enjoyed role playing together, but this is taking things too far. Now you’re living the role play. That’s not cool. That’s pathetic. Instead of being a starting pitcher, you’re the team mascot. We like mascots and all, but you don’t see us trying to go out with any of them, do you? No. That’s weird. And creepy. It’s like we don’t even know you anymore. How did that ball even hit your eye? Lisa’s father always warned us that you were an a-hole and now here’s the proof. We should’ve listened to him before we became emotionally attached. What happened to us, AJ? There was such promise. Such fire. And then you sucked, which got you traded. To a sucky team to top it all off.

It’s time for us to move on to bigger and better things. Lisa’s in love with Joey Votto now (he’s a guido after all) and Serena’s onto Justin Verlander. Turns out they have a lot in common, including the Taco Bell menu. We’re not sure we ever had anything in common with you. Now that we’ve had time to think about it, we’re not even sure why we started dating you to begin with. You’re blonde. And not that attractive. Even worse is that you cost the Yankees a sh*t ton of games! Last season, you ended the year with an ERA over 5. That’s just unforgiveable. What are we supposed to do with a man like that? Now you’re telling us that you can’t even do the one lousy thing that pitchers are supposed to be able to do in the batter’s box? You’re a pathetic excuse for a professional baseball player, pitcher, man, and most of all, lover.

Since we’re leaving you in such a heartless way, we’re going to let you have Winkie. Unfortunately, Lisa lost him, so you’ll have to find him first. She has no idea as to how long he’s been missing, but the good news is that he’s a cat, so he’s probably just fine. Rumor has it that he’s on his way to San Francisco to live with Barry Zito and his comb-over/porn-stache. At least Barry’s never hit himself in the eye during bunt practice. You know what? Let’s be real here. We don’t even like cats, so why we agreed to adopt one with you is beyond our comprehension. If you retire, you can take Winkie to Florida with you (that is, if you can find him) and live happily without us.

*Sigh* Listen, you know we love you, but we just can’t take this. You know we love you, but we’re playing for keeps. Although we need you, we’re not gonna make this. You know we want to, but we’re in too deep. Enjoy Pittsburgh. Say hello to your mother for us. We did like her despite the fact that she birthed a pansy such as yourself.

Formerly Yours,

Lisa & Serena

PS- Don’t expect us to say hello to you when you’re at Citi Field because it’s not going to happen. The pain of this relationship is too great. We can’t be friends.

Now for the rest of this week’s baseball notes:

The asinine added Wild Card round will go into effect this season. Thank goodness the MLB has another avenue with which to make money. So happy for them. We were afraid for a hot second that they might starve. The new Wild Card round will consist of a single-elimination game in each league. The 3 Division winners in each league will await the survivor of this 1-game playoff in order determine their Division Series opponents. This is just like being in Little League. Everyone gets a f*cking trophy. The teams that play the best should go to the playoffs. It’s really that simple. Also, with this new format, Division rivals will now be able to face each other in the Division Series. Confused? We’ll explain. Last year, the American League Wild Card came out of the East (as usual). The Yankees were unable to face the Rays, therefore they faced the Tigers whereas the Rays faced the Rangers. Under the new scenario, the Yankees might’ve faced the Rays in which case the Tigers would’ve faced the Rangers. Adding this extra round also eliminates potential last minute drama during the regular season. Last year, both the Cardinals and Rays advanced to the Wild Card on the last day of the regular season by defeating the Braves and Red Sox respectively. Had we had this new format, all four teams would’ve advanced to this bull sh*t new Wild Card game and we would’ve been sitting here watching baseball during Thanksgiving. F*ck the Dallas Cowboys game. We would’ve been eating turkey while watching Albert Pujols face off against Josh Hamilton.

Now that the Marlins have flamboyant new uniforms, a snazzy new stadium, and a revamped lineup, the team eyes the chance to host the 2015 All Star Game. As if that’s not enough, the team’s confident that they’ll also have the chance to host the 2013 World Baseball Classic. Sorry, but this is what we’re hooting and hollering about?

We’re not impressed. It looks like a resort from this angle and in other photos, it’s passable for an airport or aquarium. Nothing about this screams baseball. It screams “douchebag.” Kind of like their new short stop.

Jason Varitek retired. Boo hoo. Cry us a river.

Finally, enough’s enough. This has to stop. Where are you with this f*cking beard? Are you in a cave? What is this? It’s just not funny anymore. Look at us. We’re not laughing. You look like an a-hole. Oh…wait…are you having a mental breakdown? Cos’ then it’s totally rude for us to pick on you about this. It’s becoming quite clear that you’re suffering from a chemical imbalance.

The World Baseball Classic & So Much More!

Disclaimer: Majority of the pictures from today's blog have been taken from espn.com. We are not thiefs. We give credit where credit is due. The picture that we took today should be pretty obvious.

It is time for the traveling baseball babes to comment on the baseball classic. Who else is completely flabbergasted that the Netherlands defeated the Dominican Republic not once, but TWICE, the second time during extra innings? What about the fact that Canada (with our beloved Justin Morneau) was eliminated by Italy, losing 6-2?! Who the hell plays for Italy? Furthermore does Mike Piazza speak fluent Italian? What qualifies him to be coach of a foreign country? Just because his name looks like the word, "pizza,"does not mean he is Italian. Being 20 generations removed from your family immigrating does not make you an adequate representation of your motherland. No offense, Laurie. We know how much you're smitten with the man. Seriously though. He is about as Italian as the Seven Seas Italian salad dressing.

Canada should be ashamed of themselves losing to Italy and Mike Piazza. Immediately following their victory over the Canadians, the Italians got spanked by Venezuela 10-1. Things only get this strange during the Olympics. Anyway, back to the Netherlands who beat all of the MLB playing for the DR team. Perhaps there are a few members from the Netherlands who would like to be recruited to play for the New York bullpens. We could use cheap, but effective players. Unfortunately, the Netherlands lost to Puerto Rico (and the beloved Bernie Williams) in the final game to decide the winner of Pool D 5-0, but they still advanced to the second round (which is more than we could say for the US team from the first baseball classic). They'll be playing Venezuela in the first game of the second round.

As for the US team, Brad Ziegler is representing our country in all of his awesome glory. Let's hear it for the man who isn't frightened by the fact that we took pictures with him twice in one week at two completely different stadiums. Take that, David Wright (who seems to be wearing black eyeliner to the games these days???? What's up with that, dude?)! Side note: Mark DeRosa is extra hot these days. Don't be jealous, David.

Moving on to our poll. It closes in just a few hours, but warrants a comment at this time. Jonathan Papelbon should in no way take offense to the fact that no one voted for him. Only 7 people have voted thus far and that is hardly an accurate representation of the nation's feelings. That being said, let's actually compare the two. Look at Jonathan Papelbon in one picture and look at the Phanatic. Who looks more fabulous? Clearly the Phanatic. Perhaps it was a bit unfair of us to pit Pabelbon against the Phanatic. Maybe Manny Ramirez would have been a more appropriate rival?

Now...for the most important item of the day: Serena's birthday. Happy Birthday to her! Lisa has made excellent cupcakes that fit our blog's theme perfectly (as you can see by our photo). We will be going to a bar some place on Long Island (the exact location cannot be divulged as we are paranoid and fear stalkers). The bar will have the fortune of receiving our advertisements for this blog, which we are confident they care about and need. Bar by bar, we will infiltrate the public...much like former Governor Spitzer's "girlfriend."

To celebrate the evening's festivities, we part you with these words by Jimmy Buffet, "wasting away again in Margaritaville. Searching for my lost shaker of salt. Some people claim that it's David Wright to blame. And we totally agree."